Friday, January 30, 2009

Reformation: Love and Faith: Martyrs: Guido de Bres

Guido de Bres was a *snaps fingers* um... I can't think of it. He was born in Mons, a city in a Belgian province. His father had been a glass maker, and he started out in that profession too. He was only 14 when news of Tyndale's martyrism reached him. He became intrested in Protostantism, and since Mons was located on the border of France and the Lowlands (which is now Belgium) the Huegenots who were coming over from France influenced him greatly. Later in life, in his late twenties and early thirties, he studied at Geneva under John Calvin. After this he pastored a small town, but their true doctrine was kept secret. When the officials found out, they ransacked de Bres' house (he had escaped) and burned his papers including letters FROM JOHN CALVIN!!! (Wouldn't it be so great if those hadn't been destroyed?!) Later he was finally captured, and put to death by hanging. He was buried in a shallow grave, and dogs dug up his body and consumed it. He had a wife whom he had been married to for seven years, and five children. (He was also the author of the Belgian Confession.)

Much is known about John Calvin, Martin Luther, William Tyndale, (of course, not as much as we would LIKE to... but still). But not much is known about Guido de Bres. However, his character can be somewhat determined by this letter he wrote to his wife just before he died:

"My dear and well-beloved wife in our Lord Jesus.

Your grief and anguish are the cause of my writing you this letter. I most earnestly pray you not to be grieved beyond measure . . . . We knew when we married that we might not have many years together, and the Lord has graciously given us seven. If the Lord had wished us to live together longer, he could easily have caused it to be so. But such was not his pleasure. Let his good will be done . . . . Moreover, consider that I have not fallen into the hands of my enemies by chance, but by the providence of God . . . . All these considerations have made my heart glad and peaceful, and I pray you, my dear and faithful companion, to be glad with me, and to thank the good God for what he is doing, for he does nothing but what is altogether good and right . . . . I pray you then to be comforted in the Lord, to commit yourself and your affairs to him, he is the husband of the widow and the father of the fatherless, and he will never leave nor forsake you . . . .

What faith he had in Christ! What trust and love he had to commit his wife and children to the Lord's care while he died for Christ!! I can't think of anything else to say, because I happen to be too overwhelmed by his example of faith and love.

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G.K. Chesterton

Happy is he who still loves something he loved in the nursery: He has not been broken in two by time; he is not two men, but one, and he has saved not only his soul but his life.

Cicero

Other relaxations are peculiar to certain times, places and stages of life, but the study of letters [books] is the nourishment of our youth, and the joy of our old age. They throw an additional splendor on prosperity, and are the resource and consolation of adversity; they delight at home, and are no embarrassment abroad; in short, they are company to us at night, our fellow travelers on a journey, and attendants in our rural recesses.

Wendell Berry

Praise ignorance, for what man has not encountered he has not destroyed.

Samuel Davies

The greatest number of mankind beyond comparison are sleeping under ground. There lies beauty mouldering into dust, rotting into stench & loathsomeness, and feeding the vilest worms. There lies the head that once wore a crown… There lie mighty giants, the heroes and conquerors… the Caesars of the world… There lie the wise and learned, as rotten, as helpless as the fool.

Leo Tolstoy

Faith is the sense of life, that sense by virtue of which man does not destroy himself, but continues to live on. It is the force whereby we live.

Arthur W. Pink

The apprehension of God's infinite knowledge should fill the Christian with adoration. The whole of my life stood open to his view from the beginning. He foresaw my every fall, my every sin, my every backsliding; yet, nevertheless, fixed his heart upon me. Oh, how the realization of this should bow me in wonder and worship before him!

C.S. Lewis

Part of every misery is, so to speak, the misery's shadow or reflection: the fact that you don't merely suffer but have to keep on thinking about the fact that you suffer. I not only live each endless day in grief, but live each day thinking about living each day in grief.